W
HOMETOWN L I V ING AT ITS BEST 61
“We all live in
Normantown,” said
Ginger Russell as we walked
into the sewing room where her
mother, Elaine Trull, and aunt,
Helen Connell, altered prom
dresses. They didn’t just live in
Normantown. Her family was
Normantown. In 1914, Ginger’s
great-great-grandfather, Norman
Williamson, officially passed
Georgia law No. 404 incorporating
the town.
Although both sides of the
family have lived in and around
the area for many generations,
Ginger’s grandmother Dorothy
Williamson was the family's
central figure in more recent years.
“It’s where we all got our strong
work ethic,” said Ginger. “My
grandmother farmed and raised
seven children on her own after
her husband left.” The unexpected
hardship was met with strength
and resilience, the same qualities
of character that Ginger relied on
this past March in the midst of
what should have been her busiest
time of year.
When her order was placed
in August for the prom dresses
and formal wear for the upcoming
2020 season, most had never
heard of COVID-19. It all seemed
so sudden. But as the days and
weeks passed, time seemed to
stop. Oh, the beautiful dresses
continued to be changed twice
weekly in the window at G. Marie’s
Formal Boutique, a practice that
has kept all of Lyons guessing as to
what might appear next. But with
the pandemic, it soon became all
too clear that the interruption was
not going to suddenly go away.
This was not the first
time Ginger had relied on her
grandmother’s legacy for strength
in the face of the unexpected.
After graduating from Toombs
County High School in 1992, she
left Normantown for Andrew
College in Cuthbert, Georgia,
where she had received a softball
and tennis scholarship. After only
a year, she returned home to help
care for her sick mother. Instead
of playing sports at Andrew
College, she went to Southeastern
Technical College and got a
paralegal degree.
The journey from paralegal
to prom dresses was not one for
which she planned. The wheelchair
sometimes used in her window
displays is not a prop but a
reminder of that journey. “The
wheelchair represents a part of us,”
said Ginger. It is also a message of
hope. “We want other people to
know that just because you have